


Family

by there_must_be_a_lock



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Found Family, Gen, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, cooking breakfast
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:49:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24817900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/there_must_be_a_lock/pseuds/there_must_be_a_lock
Summary: Fluff Friday trope series: domestic fluff/cooking breakfast. Set after S07E02, "Proof," aka the world's cutest cooking lesson.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 63





	Family

Spencer’s used to sleeping in random places: the jet, the break room, an office chair in whatever police precinct in which they’re pulling an all-nighter… this is much more comfortable, though. He wakes up slowly, and it takes him a second to remember where he is and why his eyelids feel like lead. His head is pounding.

Rossi’s house. That’s right. He’s covered with a blanket that feels like cashmere. He can hear Morgan’s deep snores from the couch and whispering voices from the kitchen. He smiles to himself. They’d gotten progressively sillier over the course of their cooking lesson (and a few bottles of wine) and Hotch was the only one in any state to be driving, by the end of the night. 

When he finally manages to open his eyes, he takes a second to appreciate the sight of Morgan with his mouth wide open and a trail of drool down his cheek. Then he sits up and stretches before ambling toward the kitchen. 

It’s JJ and Emily, and Spencer hesitates for a split-second, still feeling slightly raw in the place he’d been holding his grief. He can’t help but smile, though. Emily’s stirring something in a big mixing bowl while JJ shows her something on her phone; photos of Henry, if the adoring look on both their faces is anything to go by. 

They turn and smile at him, JJ slightly tentative in a way that makes him realize exactly how much he missed having her smile aimed in his direction. 

“Rossi let you use his kitchen without supervision?” he asks, voice hoarse from sleep and cotton-mouth. 

“He came down long enough to get a bottle of fancy mineral water and threaten us with painful death if we touched his cast iron skillets,” Emily answers. “Then he told us to wake him back up when there are pancakes.” 

“There’s coffee,” JJ offers, still with that nervous, gentle note in her voice. 

Spencer doesn’t let himself think too hard about the impulse. He wraps her in a hug, squeezing tight, burying his face in her hair. He’s never been big on physical affection, which is probably why Emily resists making some snarky comment about it. Contact usually makes him deeply uncomfortable, and most peoples’ hugs are tolerable at best; he rarely initiates them. There are a couple people he’ll make an exception for, though, and JJ is (still, always, irrevocably) one of them. She beams up at him when he steps back, nothing tentative about it now. 

“Coffee,” Spencer mumbles, and busies himself with a mug. “One of you guys got pictures of Morgan, right?” 

“Obviously,” Emily says, with a mischievous smile. “Some of _you_ , too.” 

“Ah.” 

As if on cue, Morgan snorts, grunts, and sits up abruptly. 

“Morning, sunshine,” JJ says, as Morgan grimaces and rubs his forehead. 

Spencer pours him a coffee as he joins them in the kitchen, holding it out and saying, “Bitter and gross, just the way you like it.” Morgan smirks. 

“Where’s Garcia?” he asks, leaning against the counter next to Spencer. 

“She didn’t want to be seen like that,” Emily answers. 

Spencer frowns. “Like what?” 

“With her eyelids their natural color,” JJ chimes in. “She has an entire rainbow of glitter in that purse of hers.” 

“Hey, gotta be prepared,” Garcia says cheerfully as she walks in. “You guys take your guns wherever you go, I take my glitter.” 

“You sparkle no matter what you’re wearing, babygirl,” Morgan says with a wink. Spencer finds another mug and fixes her coffee for her, and she takes it with an exaggerated moan. 

“Oh my sweet little genius baby,” Garcia coos. “Have I mentioned lately how much I love you?” 

Spencer shrugs. “No.” 

“She’s mine, pretty boy, don’t get any ideas,” Morgan teases. 

“Always and forever, don’t you worry,” Garcia replies. “Guys, have you seen this place? I bet Rossi’s shoe closet is bigger than my first apartment.” 

Emily waves a ladle to get their attention and then points it aggressively in Morgan’s direction. “Okay, I’m putting you in charge of bacon. Garcia, there are strawberries in the fridge that need to be washed. I’ll get pancakes going. Spence, I think we’re gonna need more coffee.”

“Yes ma’am,” Morgan says smartly. 

“I’ll set the table,” JJ chips in. 

Spencer takes it all in for a second: everybody buzzing around the kitchen, in each other’s space, chattering and teasing, laughing, bemoaning their headaches. 

Emily pauses next to him and elbows him gently in the side. He raises an eyebrow at her. 

“Missed you, Spence,” she says softly, and he’s a little bit paralyzed by how _much_ he’s feeling. 

“I -” he tries, and stops, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. He can’t quite look her in the eye. Emily leans into him, her side warm against his, and tilts her head onto his shoulder for a second. 

“Love you too,” she whispers, and then in her normal voice, “C’mon, coffee won’t make itself.” She hip-checks him gently and gets back to work. 

Spencer smiles down at his mug for a second, happy to have his family together again.


End file.
